


Promises, Promises

by RhymePhile



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Comment Fic, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Non-Graphic Violence, Wordcount: 100-1.000
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-09-29
Updated: 2009-09-29
Packaged: 2017-10-10 14:38:37
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 733
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/100863
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RhymePhile/pseuds/RhymePhile
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dean gets hurt on a hunt and Castiel is there to soothe his wounds.</p><p>Spoiler for Season 5, episodes 1 and 2.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Promises, Promises

**Author's Note:**

  * Translation into Русский available: [Обещания, обещания](https://archiveofourown.org/works/371373) by [Wintersnow](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Wintersnow/pseuds/Wintersnow)



>   
> Posted in response to a request at the [](http://community.livejournal.com/spn_castiel/profile)[**spn_castiel**](http://community.livejournal.com/spn_castiel/) [Castiel commentfic meme](http://community.livejournal.com/spn_castiel/663685.html?page=1&view=2779781#comments) by [](http://martyred-wings.livejournal.com/profile)[**martyred_wings**](http://martyred-wings.livejournal.com/), who asked for a fic in which "Dean gets hurt in a hunt and needs a massage." Except I can never go porny with this stuff (as I suspect the requester wanted) and headed in a different direction entirely.

  
Dean ripped at the fourth gauze packaging with his teeth as he balanced the other three against his side with his right arm. The wound was in an awkward position, and the blood wasn't stopping. He hissed, wobbled a bit on his feet, and decided the bed was a better place to be. He always thought vampires went for the neck -- this one had taken a chunk out of his side.

He was trying to figure out a way to stitch the hole one-handed when he heard the familiar voice behind him.

"Hello, Dean."

"I'm learning not to be surprised when you pop in unexpected next to me in bed," he answered, annoyed.

Castiel frowned at him. "You're bleeding."

"Actually," Dean grunted, shifting position on the bed, "I'd say it was more like leaking at this point."

"You're too important to be risking your life on foolhardy endeavors, Dean," Cas admonished. "You're needed in the fight against..."

"Yeah, yeah, Michael's vessel, the Apocalypse, Lucifer, Hell in a handbasket...I've heard it already, Cas. But I just can't sit around waitin' for it to happen. I need to be working, not sittin' around with my thumb up my ass."

Castiel looked down at the bed.

"It was an expression," Dean sighed.

Castiel peered at the blood-soaked gauze on Dean's side. "It seems your wound is rather serious."

"Yeah," Dean agreed, looking down at the oozing blood. "Vamps have an anti-coagulator in their saliva. I need to stitch it up, but it's kinda..."

"I can heal the wound."

"I thought you were in Heavenly time-out and couldn't heal Bobby."

"Bobby's not you," he answered simply.

"What does that mean?"

Castiel placed his right hand on Dean's bare shoulder, matching his handprint, and his left on Dean's injured side. Instantly Dean could feel an ebbing chill work its way from Castiel's fingertips down across his bicep and into his arm. The hairs on the back of his neck stood up, his mouth went dry, and there was an echoing buzz in his ears. His vision went fuzzy and tunneled, blocking everything from his field of vision except the sight of Castiel, who was enveloped in a soothing, cool blue light. He felt the light rather than saw it, twisting and turning under his skin, through his blood, inside his lungs. He inhaled sharply, and could taste the power sizzle on his teeth and tongue.

Castiel began gently rubbing Dean's shoulder and the wound in unison, causing the pain to vanish. Now he felt a tightness at his side, presumably his skin stitching back together. He wanted to see, but he couldn't bring himself to look away from Castiel's face.

He was staring at Dean with a look of such reverence and joy that Dean couldn't help but stare back. When their eyes met Dean felt an overwhelming calm wash over him, unlike anything he'd ever experienced.

The air was moving -- presumably Castiel's beating wings -- except it was more like the sensation of energy than actual feathered wings, and every time they moved Dean's eyes watered from the power.

At last Dean's senses came back to him with a suddenness that nearly made him pass out.

"Cas?"

"Yes?"

"What the..."

"Don't say 'Hell', Dean."

"...fuck was that?"

"As I said, you are not Bobby. We're connected, Dean, through the divine power of the Host."

"And what does that mean, exactly? That every time you touch me I'm gonna see frickin' sparkles?"

"You put it more bluntly, as usual, but yes," Cas said, cocking his head. "Your soul was connected to mine when I raised you from damnation."

Dean raised an eyebrow. "Is that why you were lookin' at me like that?"

Castiel bowed his head in a very human expression of embarrassment. "Forgive me. It was...an honor to be chosen as your messenger, your protector. It's something I've never fully expressed. I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable."

"No, it was...I mean, it's okay." Dean sighed, and looked up at Castiel again. "Your eyes, Cas...is that what you feel when you look at me?"

"You are exceptional, Dean, in every way, and to me especially."

"Then do me a favor."

"If it's within my power."

"Forget destiny and being chosen. Promise me when my final hand is dealt, you hold me like that until the end and never let go."

Castiel nodded. "I promise."


End file.
